


Golden, Like Daylight

by InsertACatchyPennameHere



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, And I was severely burnt out, And intense recovery from this past Hell semester, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, As is most of my life, Because university trauma, Despite the rough start, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Hamliza, Hamliza Month, Historical References, Historical and Modern AUs, Hurt/Comfort, I am genuinely excited about this, I love Hamliza sm, Modern AU, Prompted Writing, Starting four days late on here, Tags to be added, Titled based on a Taylor Swift Song, Year 2 Lads, anyway, historysalt, megpeggs, no beta we die like men, writing challenge, writing prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:55:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27885598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsertACatchyPennameHere/pseuds/InsertACatchyPennameHere
Summary: "I used to think love would be burning red, but it's golden...Daylight, like daylight." -Taylor Swift, Daylight (Lover).A collection of Hamliza stories, all prompted and written as a part of Hamliza Month, which was procured by megpeggs and historysalt on Instagram!
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/Elizabeth "Eliza" Schuyler
Comments: 5
Kudos: 17





	1. From Home [Baking]

**Author's Note:**

> As much as I love participating in challenges like this, I am absolutely not feeling up to a very wordy opener to this particular chapter. I love Hamliza and I love both of the artists that came up with it (as well as the amazing prompts, now for the second year in a row!), but as I mentioned in my tags, this past semester of university has been the undeniably worst of my entire academic career. I have been and still am very, very severely burnt out from being absolutely ridiculously overworked, so while I wish I could have finished this on Day One and posted it, I just can't apologize for it. I have returned and I have missed you all immensely, but I have not have time to do literally anything other than work constantly and survive from the extra-early start to this semester to just before Thanksgiving. I am free of that Hell for now, but I am recovering. That all being said, I love you all, and I hope you enjoy these updates and short stories, no matter how slow-coming they will more than likely be. ♥
> 
> Day One: Baking 
> 
> Content Warning(s): Holidays, mentions of death, themes of grief

**Day One Prompt: Baking**

As Eliza steps through the threshold of her home, she is greeted by the smell of something sweet undoubtedly being cooked, and the sound of the sweetest laughter she is sure she has ever heard.

A familiar, delicately-messy head of curls and warm brown eyes peer around the corner of the nearby kitchen entryway as she removes her coat, prompting an excited laugh from their owner. “Mama’s home!!!”

The ensuing chorus of excited gasps and squeals never fail to bring a smile to Eliza’s face regardless of what kind of day may have had. She bends down slightly as the first of her children round the corner at top inside-speed, both of their arms outstretching and catching her around the waist and upper torso respectively as they collide. Eliza cannot help but think of how, only a few short months ago, this kind of contact was strictly warned against and reaffirmed as very dangerous; after all, she had been with child. Now, however, she is more than happy to scoop up the younger of her two boys who greeted her first today, peppering both of their faces with kisses and bringing them closer to her as she uses the back of one shoulder to fully close the front door behind her.

“Mama! Mama, we’re makin’ _Kay-itos de Gavas_!” William happily informs her while wrapping his arms around her neck and leaning to fully rest against her. “It’s _super_ awesome!”

“ _Quesitos de Guayaba_ ,” John corrects at once from where he is similarly cuddling against her other side, though he begins moving away as his other siblings excitedly make their way into the room as well. “Papa has been teaching us!”

“Oh, really?” Eliza hums pleasantly, allowing John to gingerly slip from her embrace as she moves to hug her other babies. “And have you all been having fun with it?”

“Yes, Mama!” Several of them chorus excitedly, and even despite all of the difficulties and aggravations that she has faced during her workday, she must admit that her children’s enthusiasm is positively infectious.

“It’s not hard! We can teach you too, Mama!” Angie chirps as she holds her eldest daughter close, the thirteen-year-old already jiggling in place as she pecks her cheek. “And they’re super delicious, too!”

“I’d be happy to learn it from you all, my loves,” Eliza replies at once, kissing the foreheads of Phillip, Alex, and James in turn before setting the now squirming William back to his feet. “Why don’t we join your Papa in the kitchen?”

Together with 6/8ths of her children, Eliza walks back to the warm, well-lit cooking area, from which festive music is playing and drifting out of the open doorway. As the room fully comes into view, she can’t help but beam with joy at the sight of her youngest daughter sat up on the counter, her holiday outfit protected as much as possible by an oversized apron (while the countertop is protected with wrapping to cover it). The girl is positively covered in jam, frosting, and flour, and is evidently having a fantastic time ‘helping out’ her father, who is currently rocking their youngest while preparing a bottle for him. Alexander, for his part, is just as coated in their ingredients, including a bunch of flour dusting his dark red hair and a smear of jam across his right cheek. Eliza immediately snorts softly, one hand going to cover her mouth when he looks over with mirth sparkling his dazzling ocean-blues.

“Oh? You don’t like my new look?” He teases, shaking his head lightly and causing more powder to billow lightly from his curls. “I personally think I am ready for the runway.”

“Oh, yes, of course!” Eliza says, outright laughing as she walks to assist him with the bottle preparation and baby-soothing. “Well, hello there, Mister Edward! How are you doing today, hmm? How is my handsome boy?”

The six-month-old in Alexander’s arms whines softly, prompting her to speak to him more in a sweet, calm tone as the bottle is finished up. After he is settled with his first dinner, Eliza allows her other children to begin teaching her how to prepare _Quesitos de Guayaba_ , which is more than a little chaotic with so many voices chiming in and trying to talk over each other. She does her best to follow everyone’s directions- despite how contradictory they are- while also trying to redirect them to working alongside each other better and lightly scolding them for their arguing. By the time the pastries are all prepared and the last batches are in the oven, the kitchen fully looks like a confectionary explosion or two has occurred within it, the children are all more than a little dirty and stained, and the younger ones are fully becoming very grumpy from tiredness and needing their nighttime routines.

“Alright, alright, let’s get some cuties in their baths,” Eliza gently says, though she effectively corrals little Eliza and William toward the stairs.

“Mommy, dinner ‘fore baths!”

“I know, I know, but you’re so sticky right now! What if I~ put bubbles in it? Would that make it better?”

“…Yes! Yes, _peas_!”

While Alexander helps John, Alex Jr. (AJ), and James with their showers downstairs and Eliza bathes their two younger helpers upstairs, Phillip and Angie very helpfully get dinner ordered for the family (with Eliza approving or declining different additions and the like, of course.) Before too long, everyone has had dinner and had some wind-down screen time before bedtime stories and being tucked in. Of course, after all of this and feeding the baby once more, Alexander and Eliza are fully exhausted themselves, and they both know they need to still clean up the kitchen before they retire to the bedroom or otherwise completely relax themselves.

“I _am_ glad they had fun, even if it kind of wrecked this whole kitchen,” Alexander comments with a small, breathy laugh as he gathers various empty flour bags, bundling them up into the receptacles. “We totally should have had John come over and get our Christmas photos made for all of the effort and mess we made!”

“Oh, with all of you looking adorable and me being positively frazzled and unkempt for work? Thank you, but no thank you,” Eliza refutes teasingly as she wets another washcloth to work on more of the powder dusting nearly every surface.

“You look incredible no matter what, my love. Please, do not doubt as much,” Alexander replies with obvious sincerity, thus making her heart melt and inspiring her to capture him into a long, sweet kiss. “…Well, even without professional photos, I’d say we got a helluva lot of delicious treats, so that’s definitely a good thing.”

“That reminds me!” Eliza exclaims, turning to him with a small smile that she hopes shows her enthusiasm and curiosity rather than seeming over-zealous or nosy. “Is this a recipe you learned from Puerto Rico?”

At once, her husband’s expression becomes a bit more distant with a bittersweet sorrow. “Yes, it is. My Mama and I often made it during the holiday seasons, and we always made enough to share with our neighbors.”

“That was very generous of you both,” Eliza says with a small, sad smile of her own, walking behind him and wrapping her arms around him to close the distance between them. “And I am very grateful that we are continuing it with our family.”

“I am too.” Alexander’s voice is quieter now nevertheless, and she kisses the top of his head from behind while gliding the tips of her nails up and around his chest as they more fully lean into each other’s touch.

“…I must admit, I do not completely relate to your struggle despite having lost my father. There is no way that I possibly could,” Eliza murmurs as he turns around to embrace her properly, his face tucking against the side of his neck as he does. “But I do know that your mama was a wonderful, loving, nurturing, selfish, wise, and incredible woman who loved you very, very, very much. We both know well how unconditional the love of a parent is, and when she spent the last years of her life with such exceptional company that made her smile every day…And I know that she is watching over you now, my love. Over all of us.”

“Well, that is definitely true,” Alexander says with a small, breathy laugh. “She promised that she would…Before God took her.”

Eliza holds him that more tightly, rocking slowly with her beloved in her arms as they soak in their mutual grief and heartache for the loss of someone that Alexander loved so fiercely and loss so tragically before he ever thought of beginning his way into the world. It takes several minutes- Eliza would stay with him all throughout the night to bring him even just a little bit of comfort- but Alexander slowly unfurls himself from her, taking her hands in his own and guiding her over to their last batch of pastries and selecting two of the choicer ones, one of which he sets in her palm.

Together, they eat their festive treats, and they talk about happier memories from both of their beloved and lost parents, and they cy, then dance around to one of their mutually favorite Christmas tunes that hums out from the still-playing radio, and they finish cleaning up their kitchen before changing into horrifically cheesy, extremely cozy pajamas and cuddling in bed, and everything is different but everything is still so good.


	2. Artistic Mediums [Painting]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexander cannot help but feel more and more sorry that Eliza got paired with him for this art project. [High School, Modern Hamliza]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...As you can all see by this being published on Christmas Eve (12/24), my own artistic inspiration has been very all over the place and mostly non-existent as I've recovered from the incredibly severe university burnout. *Insert awkwardly grinning emoji here*
> 
> Also, fun fact- Painting is the prompt that ended up halting my last updates last year. I'm not sure what curse exists with me and this prompt, but yeah, that's a thing. ._.

**Day Two Prompt: Painting**

“Alexander! I’m so glad you could make it!” Elizabeth Schuyler, in all of her eloquence and glory, is _right in front of him_ , and they’re at her house, and he’s at her front door, and _Oh God what is he doing here._

“Y-yeah, same here,” Alex replies as casually as he can, blowing a piece of hair away from his face and pocketing his hands in his hoodie so he doesn’t keep fidgeting with them. “It’s good to see you again, Elizabeth.”

She immediately laughs, waving her hand dismissively while pushing her front door further open with her back. “Please, call me Eliza.”

“O-oh, my bad,” he says apologetically as he steps over the threshold, immediately breathing in the heavily festive scents that greet him just as much as she did; gingerbread, candles, cranberry.

“There’s no need to apologize!” She reassures at once, squeezing his nearest arm with both of her hands, and despite the fact they barely know each other, he can’t help but wish she’d lay her head on his shoulder as well. “I just think it’s an awfully formal name to use between friends. I can call you ‘Alex’, too, if you’d like.”

 _Friends_. The two of them hardly know each other aside- acquaintances at school because they’re classmates and both in the Theatre program, sure, but not much else- and yet she is already calling him her friend. He supposes he really shouldn’t be surprised, though; that is exactly the kind of person that Eliza Schuyler is for everyone. He is quick to tell himself that he shouldn’t feel honored when there’s no way she would ever really want to be close to someone like him, who was all rough edges, darkened circles beneath the eyes, and chasing impossible dreams.

She is looking at him expectantly. Shit, he got too lost in his own thoughts again.

“Alexander is good for me,” he replies with a small nervous laugh that he’s pretty sure sounds like an animal caught in something. “I mean, I get why you’d prefer a nickname, and I don’t mind that as mine, but…Ah, it really doesn’t matter to me, I guess.”

She nods and says that it makes sense, but there is a pang of awkwardness between them that Alexander is immediately kicking himself for. He doesn’t have too much time to focus on it at hand, though; she’s giving him a tour of the house, and he doesn’t want to be rude and not listen. As he expected, it’s a lot like the Washingtons’ mansion, meaning it’s huge and lavish and could comfortably house an army. He does notice that Mrs. Schuyler seems more into modern furniture and decorating stuff than his adoptive mother, and that their house is full of pictures of all of the family as well as crafts and projects from every one of their huge pack of kids. Eliza is the second oldest- an Irish triplet to Angelica and Peggy- and even from her younger days’ art, it’s clear to him that she’s far more artistically inclined than himself. He feels worse and worse about the fact that she got paired with him for this project, he really does.

“So, what were you thinking for the project?” Eliza’s voice snaps him back out of his own head once more, and when he looks into her expectant brown eyes, he swears his heart skips a couple of beats.

“U-uh…What?” He stumbles awkwardly, and his face heats up as she gives a good-natured laugh.

“Well, Mister Meyers said that we could use several different kinds of mediums to do our work. Going the traditional route with coloring would be alright, but we could also use chalk, clay, build small sculptures, paint, paper machete~” She replies, looking across the room they have stopped in at the massive dining table that is set up with enough different art supplies to fill a store. “So what do you want to do for ours?”

Alexander considers himself to be a fairly skilled guy; all As, president of several clubs, and the kind of success story-in-progress that most people tend to eat up. However, he has absolutely never felt so utterly basic as he does right now. He had barely considered anything other than the route she called ‘traditional’ but which he was very sure she considers as _basic_ , but he isn’t willing to let her down just because his artistic skills are practically non-existent.

“A-ah…” He says, mentally running back through the options she’d just listed. “What…what about painting?”

“That sounds great!” She chirps, and she says it with so much sincerity (at least, she absolutely seems to) that he can’t help but to trust her.

The project at hand involves the two of them replicating a pre-approved photo of each other with some kind of artistic ‘medium’, and then they were to critique each other’s work with rubrics and collaborate to write a reflective paper on their processes and experiences overall. As the two of them settle in at the table and begin to select and prepare the several pallets of different kinds of paint for their canvases, Alexander reminds himself that, at the very least, he will be happy to work on their paper independently if she is too mortified by whatever he comes up with in this part. The way that she handled the brushes and doesn’t have to look at the directions on the labels confirms that she’s a natural by now with what she can do, and he has to force himself not to get lost in the fluid motions and beautiful shading that she begins her own painting with. When he finally settles on what to the start with, he wills himself to _God, Hamilton, please_ not drop the ball completely on this one, and for his product to at least not get him laughed out of the Schuyler mansion.

* * *

Eliza honestly is not sure why Alexander’s face is such a crimson red; his painting looks great! The photo she’d decided on (and gotten approved by Mister Meyers, of course), was one where she was sitting on the rounded stones of a multi-tiered fountain, and he did an exceptional job at making the waterfall look almost like it could bubble right into the paper. For her more critical part of filling out her rubric, she supposes she will have to point out how he made shapeless blobs where her hands were supposed to be resting on either side of her lap, how the lighting didn’t seem to be taken into consideration, and how her hair is definitely way too light in color, but she really does adore it overall! The amount of detail in the fountain itself and in her accessories were particularly precise and very carefully made, and she was in love with the way he made her face full of color and such pure joy, which was perfectly indictive of how she felt at the place the photo was snapped.

“Seriously, Alexander, I love it,” she insists, squeezing his nearest hand and giggling a little when the color on his face seems to deepen _even more_ , if that were even possible! “I think you did a really, really awesome job. I can’t wait to get this back so I can hang it up in my room!”

“You…you’d really do that?” He asks, and even though he is clearly flustered, she doesn’t miss the twinkle of hope in those brilliant blue eyes of his.

“I _absolutely_ will!” She assures him confidently.

Internally, she’s hoping he likes the recreation she made of his enough to do the same, but it would be a bit odd to ask, she has decided. His picture was already completely adorable; in it, he was sitting in front of a fireplace, with a dog resting her head on one side of his lap while one cat loafs on the other and a second cat is in mid-walk atop his shoulder. To top it all off, he was wearing a Christmas bow in his lengthy brown hair, and he looked to be mid-laugh as he looked up at the camera. She was absolutely smitten with him already, though she would never be bold enough to say as much outright, but having such a sweet photo and the fact he actually took her up on coming to her home just made it all the more powerful.

“W-well, if you don’t mind…I’ll do the same with mine,” he says after a few moments, and she is pretty sure her heart has fully exited her body with how much it soars with hope.

“That’s so sweet, thank you!” Now, she fully opens her arms up for a hug, and she wonders why his heart is beating so quickly when he returns it. “I’ve had a really great time today, Alexander. Do…do you think you’d like to stay for dinner, t-too?”

When he accepts with the same sweet shyness that he’s been showcasing since they first revealed their now-drying creations to each other, she thinks to herself that perhaps she- or maybe even he- will eventually get the confidence to progress their relationship further after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please remember to leave kudos/subscribe/bookmark/leave a review if it so compels you! Happy Holidays! ♥


	3. Mason Jars [Seashells]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Along the shore of a beach, memories are made while crafting is taken underway. [Modern Hamliza]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is very, very short and meant to be sweet, as a kind of make-up for all of the waiting this month for me to fill these prompts! :o

**Day Three Prompt: Seashells**

“Alexander, honestly, if you put any more sunscreen on me, I will be able to confidentially breaststroke through the sun,” Eliza teases as he reapplies more sunscreen to her arms, chest, and face.

“There is nothing wrong with not wanting you to burn!” He exclaims in reply, giving her a playful pout as her fair skin eagerly drinks in the concoction. “My delicate flower~”

“Alexander James, I used to hang from the backs of my knees from the limbs of trees, wrestle constantly with my brothers, and get scolded endlessly for getting my clothes dirty until Mama finally bought my sisters and I more reasonable ‘play clothes.’ A little sun isn’t going to hurt me,” she replies with a small snort, though she rewards his persistence/efforts with a kiss when he goes to look at her face again.

“Well, does it help if I say that I did the same things, just with skin that burns a lot less easily?” Alexander teases, and they immediately both laugh and readjust to embrace each other affectionately.

“You are as stubborn as a mule,” his Betsey whispers into his ear, causing the hairs of his arms to raise pleasurably as well as a shiver to pass through him. “But I am certain that it is for love, so I suppose I do not truly mind.”

After a few more cuddles (and kisses, of course), Alexander walks away from his wife in order to continue looking for seashells for the mason jars they are filling for each other. The idea was hers, and he’s trying to perform well so that his will compliment whatever amazing creation she makes. After all, the two of them have been friends since they were children, dated for nearly five full years, and have been married for nearly two years, so even if he isn’t necessarily as naturally artistic as she is, he wants to make her happy and not feel like she has to fix it up to look good.

“I found us!” Eliza suddenly exclaims, and he looks over at once with creased eyebrows until he notices the pair of seashells, which have somehow melded together to become attached around the back of the smaller one.

Alexander immediately laughs, especially because the smaller one is a very, very pale pink with coral stripes and the other is a cool, weather-washed grey, which he finds to be quite indicative of their personalities. As he sloshes his way over toward her to see it more properly, however, his foot brushes against something loose on the ocean floor, and he instinctively grabs toward in the ocean water to see what it was. Much to amazement, the shell that is now resting in his palm is a brilliant blue, one that looks nearly as vibrant as pool water, and is speckled with flecks of gold that make it positively shimmer in the sunlight.

“And I found you, my darling,” he announces proudly, sliding it into the mason jar for safekeeping and adjusting it gently with his fingertips before presenting it to her.

The color now on her face is from a happy blush, and they end up keeping their finished jars of shells and memories for years upon years to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please remember to bookmark/subscribe/leave kudos/write a comment if it so compels you! Happy Holidays! ♥

**Author's Note:**

> Please remember to leave kudos/favorite/follow/leave a comment if it so compels you! ♥


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